


Love In Rainstorms

by Blame Canada (OneHitWondersAnonymous)



Category: South Park
Genre: Angst, Carol McCormick Deserves Attention, Headcanon, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Late Night Writing, One Shot, Poverty, Sad, She's a Nice Lady, Teen Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-03
Updated: 2016-11-03
Packaged: 2018-08-28 20:23:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8461708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneHitWondersAnonymous/pseuds/Blame%20Canada
Summary: Nothing in Carol McCormick's life mattered more to her than her three children. She could endure years of pain and torment, starvation and abuse, and she would do it again if it meant she'd get to hold them in her arms. Her babies were special, each and every one, and she was so proud of them. She desperately wished they hadn't been born into her mess.One-Shot centered around Carol McCormick, of all characters. Although an unusual topic, I'm quite proud of this one. Rated T for a lot of implied bad things.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Warning, this is pretty sad. I was talking with my friend about Carol and how she's actually probably a really nice person despite a lot of hardships, after we found out she's only 26. This was born out of that. 
> 
> Recommended listening is 'Threnody' by Goldmund, accented of course by rainymood.com.

Silence was a rarity in the deteriorating walls of their house, but even the quietest moments were punctuated with the snuffles of Stuart’s snoring. After all, the only hours one might find peace in the McCormick household was when everyone was sleeping. No one could yell in their sleep.

Carol let her legs hang over the edge of their mattress on the floor and stretch awkwardly over stained carpet. She studied her sunken skin, mottled with bruises and covered in stubbly hairs she could never fully scrape away with the dulled razor they all shared. Her last few toes on the right foot were permanently askew from the time they were broken but they couldn’t go to the doctor. On one big toe she could still make out the tiniest fleck of maroon from the time the girls had invited her out for their regular pedicures. She was half their age but they tried to include her sometimes, and she appreciated that. She wished she hadn’t sacrificed three meals to keep up appearances no one believed. Enough money for a cheap spa day couldn’t hide holey t-shirts and permanently split ends.

She closed her eyes and listened past the thunderous snores to hear the gentle patter of rain on the roof. She realized she’d have to gather and put out the buckets for the leaks. There were six weak spots now, a new one popping up every so often with no nearby hope of getting fixed. She’d given up asking Stuart about it after the fourth.

Her skin pulled tight over ribs as she stretched her arms above her head. She hated when her thoughts kept her awake at night. It let her grow hungrier for the morning, which promised no food.

With more effort than it should have taken a woman of twenty-six, Carol rolled onto her feet and padded to the kitchen to get the pots and buckets. She pushed past over a dozen empty beer bottles under the sink to find them. She could already hear the water dropping onto cheap linoleum in the bathroom. When she straightened her posture, pots piled up on one hip, she paused to lean against the counter.

This spot had the clearest shot to every bedroom door, of which there were three. She didn’t have enough to give each of her babies a room all their own. Kevin and Karen didn’t seem to mind sharing, but Carol minded. She minded a lot more than she’d ever let on.

This wasn’t what she’d wanted. In school, Carol had big dreams, filled with visions of giant paychecks and nice cars and two story houses to upscale everything she’d grown up with. Her family didn’t have a lot, and she was determined to break that curse. Then she got pregnant. She dropped out of school. She settled for the man who begrudgingly married her after impregnating her. She never got her GED. Her life froze the moment she first held Kevin, but she was okay with that. She loved him with more heart than she ever thought she had, and Kenny, and Karen. They were her babies and her favorite accident. They made the constant abuse worth it; she only wished she could give them what they deserved.

Carol was okay with living without most luxuries. She was okay with enduring the pain of constant hunger and throwing glass bottles and losing power because that was what _she_ deserved. She’d been an idiot and become a child with her own child. That was on her. Her babies didn’t deserve to live the same way. They never did anything wrong to deserve it. She hated the way Stuart made them flinch, the way _she_ made them flinch sometimes. It broke her heart to know that things could have been so much better. If she could have gotten her GED, maybe she could have gotten a better job, and maybe she could have supported her family on more than the meager wages of a part-time dishwasher. Carol wondered if ‘maybe’ was the most painful word in the world. Maybe high school could have taught her that.

She blinked to clear her head at the sound of distant thunder and trekked through her house to place the pots in every tiny storm that dripped through her ceiling. This house was never meant to be a house. They could never afford anything else.

When she came to the last spot at the threshold of their bathroom, she paused. She slowly flipped the light switch and sighed in relief when the half-broken vanity lights flickered to life. A small puddle had grown in the cracks and she cursed quietly to herself for having gotten lost in thoughts again. She hated being awake so late, or rather, so early. They only had one clock but she could hear the first birds chirping through the rain.

Carol grabbed their towel to clean up the water and began to soak it up in wide sweeping motions, but she froze at the distinct sound of a fabric tear. She looked down and pulled her knees back. She’d accidentally caught the towel between her leg and the ground, and the fabric had grown so thin from use that it broke like tissue paper under the pull of her reaching to mop the floor. She held it up in front of her face and saw the cracked porcelain of their sink through its middle. This was their last towel.

She bunched the fabric in tight fists and fell back on her knees, too exhausted to get up. The ceiling dripped again and Carol quickly shoved the pot to catch the next one, but she peppered it with her own rainstorm first. She buried her face in her hands and let her shoulders shake with stifled gasps for air. A ripped towel wasn’t big enough for tears. This was ridiculous. Still, she wept.

“Mom?” the tiny voice of an angel asked, and Carol looked up into the eyes of her second boy. They were painted baby blue but looked too old, much too old for an eight-year-old boy. She guessed they were all old.

“Oh,” she gasped, wiping her eyes furiously with the backs of her hands. “Sorry baby, Momma’s just tired.” He didn’t look convinced, but Kenny never did. He was perceptive and so, so smart. Carol prayed he would go far every night before bed and every Sunday at church. She prayed for all three of them, but Kenny’s prayers were a bit more forceful, like she knew it would be hardest for him. He had a heart like hers and she knew it’d be hard to run away.

He didn’t speak, but Kenny had a funny way of talking without words. He held out a hand, and Carol took it gently, relishing in the softness of his virgin skin. His knuckles hadn’t hardened and callouses hadn’t grown from hard labor yet. He still had hope. Carol prayed his hands and Karen’s would stay soft. Kevin’s were already beginning to crack.

She got to her feet like Kenny seemed to want and he pulled her into the living room. She let him drag her around and sit her down on the couch. “It’s early baby, what’re you doin’ up?”

“The rain was loud,” Kenny said, but they both knew it wasn’t true. They both knew how thin the walls were and how poorly Carol had hidden her cry. Carol’s heart ached remembering that this had happened before, and Kenny had apparently created a game plan. He’d clicked the television on to the kids’ channel he still liked and dragged his blanket from his bed to share with her. He sat next to her in silence and kicked his feet slowly off the edge of the couch, and Carol chided him for picking at the stuffing bursting from one of the seams.

They kept the volume low enough that they could still hear the symphony of raindrops plunking through their hallways. She paid attention to the shows because Kenny wanted her to, and she supposed that even though they were children’s cartoons, they were distracting her all the same. Her anguished thoughts of what ifs and maybes were fading away, replaced with unconditional love.

The sun rose not long after that and Carol realized that Kenny had fallen back asleep beside her, angel’s breath ghosting past ashen lips. She stroked a hand through his unruly hair three times before carefully untangling herself from his blanket to get breakfast going. They would have two frozen waffles again but this time, Kevin had snagged a couple packets of maple syrup from the cafeteria at school. She’d scolded him when she’d found out, but she was secretly glad they’d have something sweet on their tongues for the start of their day. Sweets for her sweethearts, she thought with a small smile. How funny.

The alarm clock from her bedroom sounded and she watched Kenny jolt awake from his accidental slumber on the couch. He looked around for her and visibly relaxed when he caught her smiling. Carol watched him cringe in sync with her as Stuart barreled through their door and started banging on Kevin and Karen’s. “Get up, ya lazy son of a bitch! Karen, git out here! Your Momma made breakfast!” He must have smelled the toaster.

Carol’s smile transitioned from genuine to plastic as Stuart invaded her private moment. She felt her chest lurch as she watched Kenny put on his brave face and square his shoulders. He was always strong for his brother and sister, acting as their guardian angel. Carol thought maybe he was her guardian angel too. Maybe that’s why his eyes were so old.

Their morning passed like any other, the kids calling dibs on which piece of the waffle they’d get, and Karen’s eyes lit up at the sight of Kevin’s syrup packets on the kitchen table. Carol decided she would save up enough money for a bottle of it next time. It was a luxury, but it made her baby happy, and that was what mattered. If she could do anything to make her babies happy, she would. That was law from day one of motherhood.

They lined up for her at the door like always and she gave them all their morning forehead kisses, holding their heads cushioned by winter jackets in both hands as she planted loving marks on them to last the day. “Make Momma proud,” she said, like always, and they nodded at her and smiled, like always.

They marched out single-file into the cold rain but Kenny stopped before he could walk out the door. Carol looked at him with confusion in her face. “What’s wrong, baby?”

Kenny looked at her, and then looked over her shoulder. She knew he was watching Stuart pull out his first beer of the day. She tried not to think about it and instead focused on the little angel wings she imagined sprouting from behind his backpack.

He never said anything, just pulled his hood up over his head and zipped it all the way over his nose. Carol leaned down and took his hands, rubbing her thumbs over the tops of his tiny fists. “You did good for Momma, Kenny. You always do good.” She fought the tears that threatened to spill over her cheeks again. “Get goin’ now, before y’ miss yer bus. I love you, baby.” She kissed his forehead again quickly for extra luck and he mumbled what sounded like _love you too, mom,_ but she could never be sure under that well-loved parka.

The screen door slammed shut behind him and Stuart yelled at Carol to shut the fuck up, but she ignored him. She let the love for her babies carry her past the anger, at least for a few hours. She hated him for not working when he had his degree and more credentials than Carol ever would. She hated him for not caring for his children. Maybe that was okay, though. She could have them all to her own that way, their relationships secret and special only for them.

Halfway through the day the power flickered out. Stuart swore and swore and swore, and blamed her and swore even more, but all Carol thought of was the rain and how it could have knocked down a power line. It could have been some sort of accident beyond their control. Maybe.

The electricity bill was fourteen days late today, but Carol kept the light switches on just in case.


End file.
